


Thin Ice

by Gaku_chan



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Car Accidents, Jean is bisexual, M/M, No Homo!Marco, eventual gay feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-11
Updated: 2014-02-11
Packaged: 2018-01-12 00:34:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1179801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gaku_chan/pseuds/Gaku_chan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean Kirstein is a punk working at a minimum wage job after his parents kick him out for being bi.  Marco Bott is a respectable young college student studying to be a lawyer, who is 100% straight.  Well...maybe more like 2%.  (The two gay nerds meet after Marco crashes into Jean's car and ruins it.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thin Ice

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic on AO3! *confetti* Will anyone actually read it? I have no idea. Okay okay okay I have a dumb headcannon that Marco likes Marina and the Diamonds. (this comes later in the fic, haha) I don't know what to do with the rating? (update will take a while because I'm going away for a few weeks, sorry)

There I was, just driving along like any other civilian on an icy February day, when suddenly my world was turned upside-down. Literally. Okay, maybe I was going a bit over the speed limit, but so what? Everyone's done it, and it's not like I was breaking 75 mph. And maybe it was icy. Really bloody icy. But there's no reason why I would be dangling from my seat belt right now if it hadn't been for that piece of shit in a yellow punch buggy who ran straight fucking into me.

“God damn it,” I growled, carefully detaching myself from the crumpled piece of metal that had once been my car. It had been completely overturned, now sitting in a smoking heap on the side of the road, duct-tape 'windows' flapping in the wind. Fuck. I wasn't attached to that death trap or anything, but it was the only way I could get to Maria's, the shitty little department store where I worked about a half an hour away. Angrily kicking the snow with my sneaker, a slew of profanities came from my lips as I considered the how much it would cost to buy a new car. Definitely too much for a shitty punk like me who made minimum wage and had no future planned out for him. _Jean Kirstein you are so fucking screwed right now you might as well go back to your parents and let them send you to Jesus camp._ As if I'd let that happen.

“Oh my god, are you alright? I'm so, so, so sorry! Are you hurt? Holy crap I'm so sorry, sir!”

An annoyingly concerned voice rang out from behind me, and I turned to stare at the son of a bitch who had ruined my means of livelihood. Alright, that was a bit of an exaggeration, I could probably find a job at a closer Walmart or some shit. That didn't make me any less mad at this asshole.

I crossed my arms, scowled, and planted my feet square below my hips. Years of fending for myself had taught me how to act like I was in control. But years of fending for myself could never have prepared me for what I saw next.

The kid standing before me had the biggest, brownest eyes I had ever fucking seen. His face was held a look of horror, skin pale enough to see what must have been a hundred freckles dotting his face, with his dark brown hair sticking out in crazy directions. Wearing nothing but a t-shirt and jeans he was shivering his ass off. He looked fucking terrified of me, of the car, of what he had done.

“Sir? Are you alright?”

It was only then that I realized I hadn't said anything to him. Pulling my face back into an aggressive scowl, I quite eloquently said, “Yeah, I'm fucking fine you motherfucking asshole. Except you trashed my fucking car, which was the only way I could get to fucking work and cost half my fucking income last year.”

The look that crossed the kid's face was priceless. His mouth opened and closed a few times before he finally just closed it, then screwed his eyes shut as he thought.  
“I’ll pay for you to buy a new car, alright? I just…I need some time to get the money, okay? I kinda got in a fight with my parents, so it will take me a few weeks to get on their good side again.”

He blushed as he said this, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jeans. Everyone had family issues, myself included, so I didn’t get what there was to be embarrassed about. The kid shuffled his feet and looked down at his snow covered sneakers. Damn. If he started crying or some shit…

“Yeah, thanks man. I’m sorry about being such an asshole earlier; I was just pissed about the car. Don’t know how I’m gonna get to work now.” I muttered this, uncrossing my arms and letting them hand lose at my sides. This seemed to calm him down a bit because he finally stopped kicking his own feet and met my gaze.

“Hey, about your work, where is it? If it’s not too far, maybe I could drive you there and back, like carpooling?”

His uncertain tone paired with those huge chocolaty eyes caught me off guard for a moment, and my hand flew up to my face to cover my blush. Shit. This guy was cute, to say the least, even if he was a motherfucking bad driver. And now he was offering to let me ride in his car? I wasn’t sure about putting my life in his hands, but hell, if it meant more time with this kid then I was in.

“Yeah, yeah, that sounds good. It’s over in the outskirts of town, kind of near Shiganshina. Department store called Maria’s, have you heard of it?”

“Yes, I do! I mean, I have.” He laughed at his own mistake, probably relieved I wasn’t being a bitch anymore. His laugh was deep, the kind of chuckle one would expect from an older guy. Speaking of which, I didn’t know his age, but he looked like a college student. My glance flickered over to his car, where I saw “Sina University” boldly written on one of the bumper stickers. Ugh. Probably another shitty homophobic frat boy.

Thinking of this, I stepped back a bit, stuffing my cold hands into my hoodie pocket.

“Where do you live? So that I can drop you off on the way home?” The boy’s now-cheerful voice cut through my thoughts, startling me a bit.

“Trost Avenue, third on the left.” My tongue felt heavy.

“What’s your name?” I asked, jaw resettling into the scowl I hadn’t realized had vanished.

“My name’s Marco Bodt. What’s yours? I’m sorry if I creeped you out there, asking you where you lived without even knowing your name.”

He pretended to cringe with embarrassment, but I’m not sure it was really that much of an act.

“Jean Kirstein. And nah, it’s okay, I get it.” I turned away, pulling out my phone to call a towing company. A garbage company would have done just as well.

Marco watched me, an odd looking spreading across his face. I wasn’t sure what it was, and didn’t care; it’s not like I was going to get close to him. Any chance of me wanting to get his number had vanished when I saw his alma mater. Sina University, though refined, was famous for being a snobby prep school where the students could get away with murder as long as their daddy paid it off. My parents had been planning to send me there until they found out I was bisexual. Or in their loving words, “a sinful, slutty, god-damned, fucking faggot.” Elaborate, I know. But I’d been beat up and spat at too many times by Sina students to trust one of them now.

“We’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Thank you for calling Pixis’s towing service!”

The gravelly voice brought me out of my little trip down memory lane. Man, I’d been spacing out a lot today. Maybe it had something to do with the fact I’d been flung upside-down in a hurling ball of metal and duct-tape.

“Are you sure you’re not hurt, Jean? You look a little sick... Do you want to wait in my car until the towing truck comes?”

I looked at Marco’s eager, freckled face. He seemed nice, but I still wasn’t sure.

“Okay, but after that can you just drop me off at work? I can hitch a ride from Irwin, or something.” I hated to ask him for a ride like this, but I needed to get to work, and so far he hadn’t made any mention of my “fag hair.” That was usually a tip off that a person was an asshole. True, my hair looked a bit weird, with its undercut and two tones, but at least I didn’t dye it.

Marco looked a bit disappointed by my dismissal of his offer to carpool. Shit, when he gave me that face I almost believed that he was nice. Almost.

We trudged through the snow to his painfully bright colored car, climbing inside as quickly as possible to get out of the cold. Rubbing his hands together to thaw them, Marco turned to me, smiling.

“You’re not very talkative, are you, Jean? Unfortunately for you, I’m afraid I’m a bit of a chatterbox. What kind of music do you like?” He turned his attention to the car radio/CD player, switching it on. A pop song came on with loud electronic-y music and an upbeat tempo.

_“I’m gonna be your bubblegum bitch, I’m gonna be your bubblegum bitch!”_

Marco’s eyes widened with fright as he lunged forward and hit the eject button before I could react. A bright yellow CD with “ELECTRA HEART” printed on it popped out, much to Marco’s embarrassment.

I could barely contain my laughter, and started my shoulders started shaking, little mewls of amusement slipping out before I could stop them.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize I had that in there,” Marco muttered sheepishly, shoving the CD in the glove department and facing to look out the window before I could see his blush.  
This only made me laugh harder. Jesus Christ, here this guy was in a bright yellow car with a matching CD that was Marina and the Diamonds? Nothing against that type of music, of course, but god damn, in any other situation I would have sworn that he was the faggot, not me.

“Oh my god, Marco, I’m sorry! That was just unexpected, that’s all,” I said, trying my hardest to sound calm.

A small whimpering sound came from Marco’s side of the car, and I turned to see that his shoulders were shaking as well. Soon he was flat out giggling, a noise a few octaves higher than what I would have expected for someone with such a deep laugh. For some reason, I found this fucking hilarious, and began to laugh so hard my chin was wobbling. We continued like this for a while, letting all the stress of the crash seep out in the form of laughter.

Suddenly, there was a loud rap at the window, and the wrinkled old face of Mr. Pixis appeared before us. I opened the door and got out of the car to speak with him, only to see that my car had been loaded onto the back of his tow truck, a few parts scattered on the side of the road.

“Kid, I gotta tell you, you’re lucky to have survived that. I’ll take away this piece of shit for free if you let me have all the parts.”

I quickly agreed to that, picking up a few of my things that had fallen on the roadside out of the wreckage. There wasn’t much, only a gym bag and few granola bars I had squirreled away for breakfast.

After collecting my things, I headed back to Marco’s car, where he’d put on the radio. This time, it was classical music, which was probably meant to be calming but instead made me anxious. Mom used to really like Bach.

“So he took it away for free? That’s awesome, man. I’m still sorry about all of this…” Marco gave a sympathetic smile and buckled his seatbelt. What a fucking nerd. I shrugged and settled into my seat again, choosing to look out the window instead of at Marco’s cute freckled face. Trees whirred past as he began to drive in the direction of Maria’s, occasionally asking for directions or making brief conversation with me. I was being rude, I know, but I couldn’t allow myself to get comfortable around another guy like Marco. I just couldn’t.

Marco drove considerably slower this time, being much more cautious than before. Probably didn’t want to almost die a second time. His phone buzzed after a few minutes, and he asked me to tell him what it said.

  
**From: Mina <33**  
 **Where r u baby? I thought u were coming to Christa’s? O.0 Hope ur ok <3**

  
Ugh. So he was taken. I grimaced as I read the embarrassing text aloud, mimicking the wide eyed ‘confused’ emoticon and blowing kisses for the heart. Marco laughed, a faint chuckle that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Shit, did I offend him? I didn’t realize I was being a jerk, but I thought it would be funny and pass the time. I quickly launched into a series of questions to try and diffuse the nervous tension that had somehow pooled in Marco’s eyes.

“Is she your girlfriend? Well duh she is, I’m sorry. How long have you been going out?” Fuck I fucked that up.

Marco turned to look at me for a moment, that odd expression crossing his face again.

“Three years,” he said, gripping the steering wheel. “Since I started college. We met in philosophy class and have been together ever since. I was supposed to go to our friend’s apartment today, that’s Christa, because we were supposed to hang out and go to a football game later. I’m not missing much.” To be honest, Marco didn’t look that upset, so I didn’t feel too bad about making him miss his date. It was his fault for crashing into me anyway.

“Oh, that’s a long time, huh. Do you have any plans? I mean like proposing?” I asked, trying to look happy for him as I said this. If he and Mina had really been going out for that long, he must like her a lot.

“I don’t know. I mean, my dad keeps telling me to propose because she’s smart and cute and would make a good wife, but I’m just not sure that’s what I want. Not that I don’t like her or anything….she’s just not exactly ‘the one,’ I think.” Marco bit his lip as he said this, focusing on the road straight ahead instead of looking at me. What the hell happened to his unstoppable smile from a few minutes ago? I guess he wasn’t comfortable discussing Mina with me.

“Well man I hope you figure it out soon. What should I tell her? That you almost killed some shitty punk and now have to drive him to work?” I kept my tone light, trying to cheer Marco up a bit. He may be a Sina asshole, but he was being pretty nice to me, so I didn’t want to be too much of a jerk.

Marco laughed for real this time, but it was only for a moment.

“Sure, something like that. Just tell her I can’t text her while driving anymore!”

“Yeah, wouldn’t want to deal with anymore shitty punks like me,” I mock-growled, quickly texting a response, then set his phone back in his cup holder.

“Hey, you don’t seem too shitty to me, Jean. You’re actually pretty cool for a guy I thought was going to murder me the first time I saw him!” Marco was smiling again, so I was glad. Hopefully Mina wouldn’t text a response; I didn’t want to see him looking down again.

“Yeah well you’re lucky I didn’t strangle you, Marco. Any other guy and I just might have.”

“You’re such a charmer.”

“Ha, tell me about it.”

We pulled up into the nearly empty parking lot of Maria’s. It was too early for anyone to be awake and shopping on a Saturday morning, so the only cars around were Levi’s old Camaro and Irwin’s Jeep. A couple of old ladies were there too. Probably to buy cat food.

“Just drop me off out front please,” I said, shoving my spare granola bars into my gym bag and slinging it over my shoulder.

“Are you sure you don’t need a ride home, Jean? I really wouldn’t mind. Oh crap, I gotta get your number! So that I can pay you back for the car, of course.” Marco smiled picking up his phone and unlocking it. He looked expectantly at me.

“Marco…” I began, unsure of what to say. As nice as Marco was, I wasn’t sure if I could trust him, and didn’t want to get hurt again because I was easy with giving out my number. _This is about your car, Jean, not your love life. Get your shitty act together and stop pretending he’s anything more than an idiotic straight guy who’d stop smiling that adorable fucking smile and try to beat the shit out of you if he knew you were bi. Just stop it._ I gulped, wiping my sweaty palms on my jeans, trying to clear my thoughts.

“309-9356. Don’t you dare drunk call me,” I mumbled, watching as he typed it into his contacts list.

“Smile, Jean!” Marco said suddenly, snapping a pic of me before I could protest.

“Hey, what the fuck Marco?” I grimaced, blinking from the bright light of his flash. What a fucking dork to have his flash on.

“You look gorgeous, don’t worry,” Marco laughed, sliding the phone in his pocket.

I rolled my eyes at him, unable to contain the grin that spread across my lips.

“You’re a real fucking nerd, you know that? I thought you’d be the sophisticated one, with you going to Sina and all.”

He returned my grin and handed me a piece of paper with his number already scribbled on it in green sharpie.

“I promise I’ll pay you back, Jean. And yes, this is the right number, you can test it right now if you want.”

“No, it’s okay, I believe you,” I said, reaching out my hand to take the paper. I wish I could say our fingers brushed and our eyes met, but Marco seemed distracted by something, and our hands were on opposite ends of the page. However, I did feel a warm, tingly sensation in my gut. I think they call it trust.

~

  
I watched Jean as he made his way into Maria’s, tight black skinny jeans hugging his butt and thighs as he walked. Butt. I sounded like a freaking twelve year old! _It’s ass, Marco, ass. Not a butt. And you were most certainly not staring at Jean Kirstein’s._


End file.
